


Pitfalls of Solitude

by ebayhaunteddoll



Category: Maurice (1987), Maurice - E. M. Forster, Squirrel and Hedgehog (cartoon)
Genre: 1910s, A/B/O, Age Difference, Angst, Cannibalism, Communism, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Cuckolding, Drama & Romance, Edwardian Period, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Espionage, Furry, Hormones, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Infanticide, Infidelity, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Mpreg, North Korea, Omegaverse, Scrongle my Dingle by Britney Spears songfic, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slow Burn, Socialism, Soulmates, Spies & Secret Agents, Squirrels, Time Travel, True Love, World War I, counterfeit - Freeform, cw: alex scutter ment, fox hunting, moonieverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27719168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebayhaunteddoll/pseuds/ebayhaunteddoll
Summary: A wild, sordid summer love story that follows Geumsaegi as he struggles to forget his past and embrace the future, even if that future is in the past.
Relationships: Geumsaegi/Clive Durham, Juldarami/Murori
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

  
_  
Scrongle  
Yeah yeah  
Yeah scrongle my dingle baby  
Scringle my pringle heyyyeyy  
I'm just a bongus  
I got that hongus  
In the house (yeah)  
Just a mouse  
But don't think that I can't be pingus (oh no)  
Cuz you know I will be scringus baby  
_  


Geumsaegi slowly came to as the ringing of his alarm started to sound like the sound of a cheese grater, but not one working on a nice smooth piece of young sharp cheddar. Maybe something more like a parm-an aged, gritty one, with the salt crystals to grind gratingly against the grater. The rolling hills of Flower Village, North Korea greeted him through the window. Past the lines of prim squirrel soldiers and the trees dripping with autumnal leaves, there was a great spinning portal ripping a hole straight to the United States, 1919. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts racing. The little tan squirrel, who was no more than three and a half feet tall, hopped down from his bed onto the cold linoleum floor of the special forces housing unit. He went into the tiny bathroom connected to his room, splashed his face with water, and brushed his powerful, nut cracking teeth. He stared at his reflection in the eye. He looked like a squirrel- a beautiful squirrel, with emerald crystalline orbs that sparkled like a Deer Park Springs water bottle in the afternoon Sun of the Western encampment. His fur, despite laying a little flat on the side he had slept on, was a luxurious chestnut brown, and was as silky as the skin of a hairless newborn rodent. 

“Why am I so nervous? When I come back it’ll only have been a day for them. I’m not even going anywhere dangerous.” That wasn’t entirely true. Wherever it was he would end up, he was sure to face opposition to his noble cause. He couldn’t expect the uninitiated, especially European heathens from the past, to understand the necessity and complexity of the change he was determined to catalyze within the Western socio-political atmosphere. His mind raced with a mix of fear and excitement. He walked back into his room and pulled down his dress uniform. It was draped over the outside of his closet door from a hanger that he had stuck in the door jamb. He stared at it in his hands. His mind had fixated on visualizing himself sitting on a stool in front of the white pull-down backdrop, getting his picture taken one last time, and then running off to Juldarami to say his final goodbyes. Something about the idea of Juldarami keeping a photo of him made Geumsaegi's heart fill with so much warmth he felt like he couldn't contain it. He slipped on his white dress shirt overtop of a matching tee and tucked it into his dress pants. Buttoning up his perfectly ironed jacket and fastened his belt overtop at his waist, he clipped the leather strap across his body, stepped into his dress shoes. With his tie slung around his neck, he started off down the hall. As he walked, he kept his eyes on the numbers above each of the doors, looking for his friend's. His search was cut short by a familiar voice calling his name. There he was, propping the outside door at the end of the hall open with his hip, arms outstretched with grocery bags in each of his hands. 

"Juldarami!" Geumsaegi called back to him, running towards the other squirrel. They embraced each other.  
"Your tie!" Juldarami said as they pulled away. He twisted it into a series of loops and then pulled the knot up to the collar of his comrade's shirt. Although Geumsaegi thought it might be slightly manipulative, he knew that if he left his tie untied, Juldarami would do it for him, giving them an excuse for close contact.  
"Today's the big day, huh?" The striped squirrel in fatigues held one of the bags open to give Geumsaegi a look at the food inside. "I thought we'd have a picnic as kind of a last goodbye."  
"You shouldn't have gotten all of this, Juldarami!"  
"No, no! I want to celebrate! I'm gonna miss you, man! Base won't be the same without you!" He knew Juldarami didn't know how much he'd miss him. They'd miss each other for different reasons, but Juldarami could never know.

"This is so nice! I can't believe you!" He said as they walked out onto the campus of the base. The fall trees were as bright as ketchup. They lined the sides of the roads, their branches creating arches overtop of the bustling traffic of convoys and humvees. Together they walked towards the gravel parking lot towards a Jeep with a snow white duck in a navy uniform and another squirrel wearing civilian clothing waiting in the back seat. A hedgehog in military dress sat on the rear ledge of the topless car waved to him. The two of them greeted Geumsaegi and congratulated him on being picked for the mission. "Got the beer, Murori?" Juldarami asked the duck. "Sure do!" She said, rummaging through a water hyacinth reusable grocery bag. "Want one?" Juldarami asked. "No thank you," The tan squirrel responded. The fowl handed a bottle forward to Juldarami, who was driving. "Thanks, babe," He said as he started the car and pulled out of the lot. 

Geumsaegi's younger brother, Bamsaegi, sits in the back next to one of his closest comrades, Goseumdochi. Bamsaegi looked a lot like him, but rather than having a brown marking on his back, it was more of a blonde color. Despite being younger than him, he had been on more intense missions, which was probably why he looked like a 50 year old divorcee rather than a teenaged child soldier. Goseumdochi is a hedgehog. He's brown. What the hell else can I say. (A/N: I just checked the wiki and he's dead >_<) He also is a figment of Geumsaegi's imagination, a ghost of the loyal friend and compatriot who made the ultimate sacrifice for his nation. They traveled down the street into the mountains for quite some time, then turned off onto a series of back roads that led them to a flat rock that overlooked a valley. Warm hues of foliage covered the valley like a handmade quilt. The brown branches of trees that had already lost their leaves stuck out of the canopy like week old pubes through a pair of panties that were on sale at Target. The gang hopped out of the vehicle and unloaded all their picnic supplies. Bamsaegi set up a card table. Juldarami pulled some buckets out of the trunk and put them around the table as stools, while the duck placed an array of snacks onto the table from the bags she had taken from the car. Geumsaegi walked over to a circle of stones and kicked the dead leaves out from the center. He called to his friend. "Juldarami! Do you wanna come get some sticks with me? Get a fire going?" The robust little rodent looked up from his bucket positioning to Geumsaegi. "Sure! We should get some water to put it out, too" He called back, picking up the plastic pail he was sitting on. They started off into the forest, going beneath the boulder in search of the river that had created this vast valley. The dressed up squirrel picked up dry sticks along the way, and as soon as they were far enough away to be out of earshot of the rest of them, he turned to his brother in arms. 

"Juldarami," he said. "I think we have a bond, one that's stronger than the others know," "Of course we do, Geum! We fought alongside each other. We lived and died together. We have a bond that is unbreakable." "I just-" he was cut short by his comrade. "Listen, is this about Murori? She's just my girlfriend. Don't worry about it, she's a soldier too. She's not the type of girl to pull people apart. Don't even worry about it, dude!" Juldarami interjected. Geumsaegi decided that it would be better for him to keep his mouth shut, and not risk their friendship. 

After heading back to the camp, they created a fire and gulped some glizzies while enjoying the kind of junk food Geumsaegi couldn't get on his mission, as well as some weird tortilla chips with seeds in them Murori got from Wholefoods. This would be the last time for a while he would be able to enjoy a sausage without having to worry about eating ground up rats and child worker fingers. After soaking in the views and extinguishing their fire, the lot of them cleaned up and hopped back into the car, headed towards base. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Yeah scrongle my dingle baby  _

_ Scringle my bingle heyyyyeyy _

_ Fourteen eight two five three eleven _

_ Twenty two ninety three seven seven  _

_ My dilk can't tilk  _

_ Waiting for you to filk, hey _

_ Yeah scrongle my dingle baby  _

_ Scringle my bingle heyyyyeyy _

_ Fourteen eight two five three elevens _

_ Twenty two ninety three seven seven  _

_ My dilk can't tilk  _

_ Waiting for you to filk, hey _

  
  


In the base's espionage building, Geumsaegi bounced from department to department, getting sent from room to room to make sure everything would go over perfectly. After being passed around like Kaitlyn Bennet's husband at the frat party she shat herself at, he made his way to a giant control room, full of military personnel and scientists alike, all bustling about, speaking to each other, frantically going through papers, or checking data displayed on a mosaic of monitors. Past the lines of computers was a high-ceilinged rotunda with a framework of different trusses and machines, and in the center was an interdimensional portal that was yet to be stable enough to enter safely. The moment Geumsaegi walked through the doors, an older plump chipmunk in a military officer's uniform rushed him through the labyrinth of desks to Professor Mole, who briefed him on the scientific aspects of the portal.

"It is not stable enough right now, and putting you through at the wrong moment could place you at any point in the world. As soon as you enter it, you will feel yourself falling. Do not worry, as long as we position you correctly, you should land softly. You may also experience some dizziness, or you may even go unconscious. Again, you should be perfectly fine." The mole said, pushing up his thick glasses. "All of this considered, you should be able to see why it is so imperative that you step in exactly when we tell you to. You will only have a few seconds." 

Geumsaegi nodded. Then the Chipmunk began with a raspy, but kind voice. 

"Soldier, I know you've heard all of this before, but we'll give you just one last briefing to make sure you've got it down. Your mission is to go back in time and take down America at one of its most vulnerable points, the rise in communist sympathy following the industrial revolution and the Russian revolution. You will be bringing this along with you to give to counterfeiters." An assistant shows him a suitcase full of printing supplies and a set of dollar bills, all from different years with different counterfeit protections on them. 

"The influx of bills will destabilize the economy. You can also the printers to make leaflets, but I'd suggest a print shop on account of the fact you'll be giving it to the counterfeiters." He said, pacing back and forth as he spoke.

"Remember to use this when you need to come back home. You can only use this once, so don't waste our money or our time, soldier." The assistant shows Geumsaegi a palm-sized piece of technology with a red button on the top. He placed it next to the printer, and then covered them up with some time-appropriate clothing. He shut the case and handed it to the squirrel.

"Geumsaegi, you're one of our finest. I'm sure no matter what happens, you'll find a way out. Good luck out there, sargent." He said, saluting him. The countdown had begun. The number "60" had appeared on two monitors above him, and with each second they beeped and counted down to one. Geumsaegi stood in front of the portal as the number slowly decreased. It was the longest minute of his life. There would be no communicating with Flower Village. If something went wrong he was completely on his own. This would be the first time he'd be living in a world without Juldarami to back him up when needed help. He faced the portal. 

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1...

He steps into the portal but trips over a Pixy Stik someone left on the ground. He was halfway in the portal, halfway outside. Professor Mole ran over and kicked him in as if he was a ball of paper that had missed the trash can. 

As Geumsaegi fell, the torn fabric of spacetime rushing around him slowly faded into blackness. From the void stepped a wide-necked, professional young man in a blue-grey suit. His hairline was lazer cut into a perfectly straight line, and his eyebrows into perfect trapezoids that rested peacefully above his onyx orbs. 

“Dr. Dallas Dance, former superintendent of the Baltimore County Public School System? B-but I thought you were in jail for embezzlement and perjury!” the squirrel shouted to him. 

“No, Geumsaegi. I am here, I have ascended beyond the mortal realm. While my physical body is in the Maryland state penitentiary, my soul wanders here in the metaphysical crawl space between dimensions. I am here, Geumsaegi, to give you a massage.” 

“Massage?”

“Sorry, I misread it. A message. Geumsaegi, on this mission you will meet your soulmate. I can see it, but Geumsaegi, I came to you because I do not want you to miss it, or deny yourself your one chance at meeting him. Goodbye, little squirrel. You are nearing your destination,” He said, walking off and disappearing just as quickly as he appeared. He suddenly became painfully aware of his existence, as if he had inhaled the gas from a Starbucks whipped cream dispenser. He felt like he had jumped out of a plane and was about to hit the ground. Just as he braced himself for impact, he was cradled by the safety trampoline of pure black.

Geumsaegi was awakened by the sound of horses clopping their hooves and the coolness of a gentle breeze that blew through his fur. He opened his eyes. All he could see was the canopy of trees passing by. He could tell from the smell of soot and burning orphans that he had arrived at his target location. But why was he moving? Looking around, he realized he was being carried on the back of someone’s horse. He tried to get up to knock out whoever had kidnapped him, but his arms and legs had been bound. His captor noticed as he squirmed. 

“Eh! Someone’s awake, I see!” the rough-looking man said, turning to look at him. He had an English accent. Geumsaegi started to worry about whether or not he was in the right place, although the clothing told him he was in the right time. He squirmed, trying to free himself of his ropes. 

“He’s a kicker!” the man shouted to another horseman behind him. The man rode up next to them with a large, hinged basket. Together, they managed to get the rodent-boy inside, then locked it and further secured it with a length of jute cord.

“Eh! The gentry’ll sure like this one eh?” the first man called to the second. 

“Yeah, never seen one like it!” he responded

The two of them, squirrel basket in hand, continued their ride to a huge, castle-like manor. Geumsaegi peeked through the holes in the wicker as the foliage raced by like green clumps of leaves, blurring into a greenish-chartreuse-emerald color. He felt sick and a delicate line of spittle dripped from his mouth, pooling gelatinously at the bottom of the basket. The two men slowed their horses as they approached the mansion and passed through the gates framed by perfectly maintained yew bushes cut into rectangles. The massive doors of the manor swung open, and out stepped a portly man. His upper lip was decorated with a thick moustache, and his hairline was on backwards. 

“Right, what’s all this then? ” The man said. 

“Oi there man, we’ve got a good one for ye!” the man holding the basket said to him.

“Yeah, kept ‘em alive for ya! Never seen one like it!” his other captor said. 

“Well, well,” tsked the man coming from the house. “Let’s seen, then?”

Geumsaegi barked and howled and spat like an unpleasant kinnie. He shook the basket with all his might, using the techniques he learned when he would fake seizures in middle school for attention. The hunter almost dropped him, and Geumsaegi was certain he was going to be able to get away, but some unseen force steadied the man’s hand and gave Geumsaegi an implicit kick in the balls. 

“Feisty one, eh?” said the man with the moustache. His voice was flat and disinterested. When he took the basket in his hands, Geumsaegi could feel a curious warmth from his small, sturdy hands. “Have you brought me a rabbit? A fox, perhaps?”

“Some kind of big squirrel-type beastie. Beats me what it is.”

“So you didn’t find the rabbit that was eating Mrs. Durham’s garden?”

“No, sir.”

“Get back out there, then. I’m not paying you for nothing.” 

“Dammit! He’s going to eat me!” The squirrel thought to himself. The two horsemen rode back into the garden. Geumsaegi was shaken a bit and fell from his place watching through the gaps in the wicker. He could tell that he was being carried into the sprawling home, as the man carried his wicker cage into a small mudroom-like area. 

“What do you have, daddy?” a small child called from behind him. 

“I’m not sure what to say” He replied, trying to get a better look at the furry creature. He opened the box a tiny amount. Geumsaegi saw his chance. He needed to act now. Bursting through the crack in the basket, he jumped out feet first, flying at full force towards the fellow’s face. The man fell backwards, and Geumsaegi clung onto his arm with his sharp buck teeth. 

“DADDY!” The little girl yelled.   
“Egads!” The man shouted in surprise.

“Clive, honey? What happened?” A woman yelled from upstairs. 

“I was just bit by the damn squirrel”  He replied. 

Geumsaegi rushed towards the door of the tiny outclove, but Clive caught him by his ankle before he could escape. The two-foot tan squirrel tried to swing and kick, in an attempt to escape. 

“Can we keep it daddy? Please please please??” The girl asked him.  
“Well, it looks like we’re going to have to. It would be best if we kept him alive and keep an eye on him to make sure he hasn’t given me canine madness.” He responded.

“Yay!! A new pet!! I love him, I love him, I love him!!” She shouted.   
“You absolutely can NOT touch it for a week or so, lest he passes you on his sicknesses!” He told the girl sternly, shutting the door with the creature inside. Geumsaegi paced back and forth in the room. “Well, it looks like I’m in England,” He thought to himself. “This guy’s house seems pretty big, so he seems like he has some influence. Maybe he can help me, but I shouldn’t get too close to this guy. He seems shifty, and my best bet is to get out,” He sat himself in the corner against the floral wallpaper. He stared up at the wood ceiling, waiting for something to happen. After a few minutes, the man opened the door a tad and placed a tin bowl full of water on the floor. Geumsaegi walked over to the bowl and looked inside of it. The water had a slight tint to it and smelled a little bit like metal. He couldn’t tell whether he was trying to poison him or if that was just the water was like in this part of the world. Maybe that’s what made them turn out like that. Through the cracked door, his eyes met the eyes of the lean man who would be caring for him for the next week or so. Their stares stayed locked. Geumsaegi’s blood started to boil until the rolling steam of his rage could no longer be contained. 

“Fuck you,” He said shortly.  
“I say,” Said Clive from behind the door, having slammed it shut in surprise. 

Geumsaegi kicked the bowl against the wall in anger. He sat back down in his corner with his arms crossed and his head down, until he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy Pitfalls of Solitude, please consider sharing it with a friend

“Geumsaegi, I love you,” Juldarami said to him. Geumsaegi’s chest tightened and he reached out to his beloved comrade, but before their hands could touch Juldarami’s face morphed into one much featherier. 

“I know your secret,” Mulori’s face hissed at him from its stolen place on Juldarami’s body. “When I tell Juldarami, he’ll never want anything to do with you again. They’ll all be disgusted. You’ll never be able to serve again!”

“No!” shouted Geumsaegi. He swiped for Juldarami/Mulori again, but they faded into transparency as the scene shifted. Geumsaegi sobbed in confusion; what was happening? Where was he? He could no longer tell dream from reality, and a deep sadness resonated in his heart. What  _ would  _ Juldarami think if he knew Geumsaegi’s more…. Tropical inclinations? 

Dallas Dance reappeared in Geumsaegi’s vision, but this time he was dressed in an orange jumpsuit and his hands were cuffed to one another. He was trying to open a package of Haribo Gummy bears. 

“You know, I had these imported from Germany,” He said casually to the man in uniform beside him. His companion only grunted.

Dance opened the package with too much force and the candies went flying all over the floor. “Dammit,” He sighed, and reached with both hands into his pocket to withdraw another package of gummy bears. “Ah! Geumsaegi,” The man said.

“The cosmic police caught me astral projecting,” he explained. “They let me visit people’s consciousness, though, just like getting a phone call in physical jail. Everyone else I know with their crown chakra opened was awake right now except for Larry Hogan and he’s too hopped up on DMT infused moisturizer and heartworm pills to hold a metaphysical conversation. But I mean like, you would love it here. You know, like, there’s a lot of your type of people here, doing like, your type of people’s kind of thing?” He said. Geumsaegi moved his head back, slightly offended. The man went on, oblivious to the squirrel's discomfort. "Speaking of which, I made this for you!" 

Seemingly from out of nowhere, he pulled out a well-constructed circular table with wheels. "We're making these for the Maryland State University System, which many of the young inmates never had the chance to attend due to the school to prison pipeline. Companies such as Walmart, Wholefoods, Victoria's Secret, McDonalds, Target, Texas Instruments, Starbucks, AT&T, Microsoft, Honda, Macy's, Nordstrom, and Sprint all use prison labor, as they are not required to pay minimum wage, and they can get around restrictions to outsourcing. The lowest prison labor salary in the United States is 60 cents per day. The state of California also employs prison labor camps to pave roads and work as firefighters. Inmates do not receive compensation for their work, nor are they allowed to become firefighters after their time in jail," he said. 

"This is especially alarming considering the fact that many prisons are privately owned, and that the majority of inmates are doing time for nonviolent crimes such as drug possession, and that large companies have so much influence over politicians, not to mention the cycles of institutionalized racism and classism that make young people of color and working class people more likely to be arrested " Geumsaegi added. All three of them looked at the reader.

Dallas continued. "Anyways, little one, my time is running out. I have wisdom to share with you. You need to follow your instincts, they are what truly guide us. Also, stay away from adrenochrome, Geumsaegi. It’s fucked a lot of guys up in here. My time is almost up, I must go,”

And like that, the figure faded out of existence. A new vision slowly materialized in the form of the moustached man who called himself Geumsaegi’s captor. He was seated in a huge plush armchair, the only furniture in the strange gray box of a room they were in. He was peering curiously at a tiny bundle of cloth in his arms, roughly the size of a baseball. 

“I say,” said Clive. “It’s a right ugly bugger, isn’t it?”

The bundle squirmed and made a squeaking sound that Geumsaegi recognized as the sound of a newborn squirrel, but before he could react, he was jolted awake by the giggles and footsteps of children running down the grand stairwell. 

“Wait till you see him! He’s SOOO cute!!! He’s the biggest squirrel I’ve ever seen!” shouted the voice of a little girl. 

“Bigger than a loaf of bread?” A little boy asked  
“Bigger!” 

“Balmy on the crumpet! Bigger than Edith Brown’s dog?” The boy inquired.  
“Um… maybe smaller,” she replied. 

“Oh… well still!” He said, slightly disappointed. Geumsaegi could hear them getting closer. He could hear one of the children, presumably the girl, fiddle with the doorknob of the tiny room. Suddenly, from farther into the house, came a thunderous voice. 

“MARY ANNE DURHAM, GET YOUR HAND OFF THAT DOOR IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU!” Clive ran over to the door. “I told you not to come to this side of the house until your mother told you it was okay. Go on and tell her what you’ve done- she’ll decide whether to punish you or not.”

“But Daddy!” the girl cried, sounding teary. “I just wanted to show Thomas the squirrel. It’s not fair that we both got to see it but he couldn’t!” 

“It won’t be fair when we’ve all contracted rabies and he hasn’t either, now will it? I told you to go on, now, kids!” 

Geumsaegi sighed, relaxing against the wall as the sound of bounding footsteps faded away. He would do whatever it took for his country, face any enemy without fear, but the thought of having to fight children- even the ugly British ones- was a little too much for him. Soon, the sound of footsteps returned, but this time, it was only one person. It was someone bigger, probably the father of the kids. As soon as the door opened, Geumsaegi looked up, matching his eyes with the man's. 

"Clive," he said. 

"What in the Dickens!" He shouted, taken aback. "How do you know my name, you little creature?"

"I heard your wife call to you. Or at least, I assume it was your wife," the squirrel responded. 

"Well I'll be a monkeys uncle. You're an intelligent little thing, aren't you?" He said.

"Don't patronize me, old man," snapped Geumsaegi. "Why are you keeping me in this broom closet? And what's that in your hand?"

Clive gave the squirrel a look up and down. "Well! Kein ayin hara, but you look like a bolshevist!" He said, gesturing to his uniform. "I'm keeping you here to make sure you hadn't passed me any diseases when you bit me, and I meant you no disrespect, good sir,"

"You didn't answer the question. What's in your hand?" Said Geumsaegi coldly. 

"It's a bowl of nuts from our garden that my daughter Mary Anne collected for you. She cares for you deeply," 

Geumsaegi grumbled as the man placed the bowl on the floor. "Is there anything else you need?" He asked. 

"Stop trying to butter me up." The rodent boy said as he sat back down in his corner. 

"Well then," Clive said, closing the door. 

Geumsaegi picked up the bowl and ate a few acorns from it. He picked up a hard, green fruit that looked a bit like a tennis ball or one of Bowser's testicles from the bowl. "A walnut?" He thought to himself. He examined the fruit, turning it around, looking for a place to open it. He figured he should just try biting into it. With one good chomp, he managed to chop the nut in half. The walnut was open, but a black juice came gushing from the flesh of both hemispheres, staining his hands and his dress uniform. The emblem of his service to his home country was now covered in nut juice. Geumsaegi tried to flick the dye off of his hands, only to create black spots on the ground. Defeated, he slumped back on the wall. He ate the soft nut meat from its shell before discarding it to its own corner of the room. He stayed in the room for hours, pacing and drawing pictures with the ink in an attempt to keep himself from being consumed by boredom. 

Soon, the doorknob slowly turned, and a little ugly British girl carefully pushed open the door. She tiptoed in the tiny, empty room. 

“Hi,” She whispered

“Hello,” he replied, in an equally quiet tone. 

“My name is Mary Anne, what’s yours?” She said slowly.

“Geumsaegi. It’s nice to meet you, Mary Anne.” He replied.  
“Ge- G-” the girl said, her British mind struggling to pronounce his multisyllabic name. 

“Koom,” He said, trying to help her.  
“Koom,” She responded.

“Say” 

“Say”

“Kee”

“Kee”

“You got it?” He asked

“Geumsaegi?” she said in an unsure tone.

“Exactly!”

“Say mister, what happened to your clothes? Did you take the technicolor yawn?” The girl inquired.   
“No, I tried opening this little walnut you gave me. Thank you for the nuts, by the way,” He said kindly to the jit. 

“Wait! I know what to do!” she said, yelling, while still whispering. She took the squirrel’s hand and looked out into the hallway. “Wait, stay here actually,” she told him before scurrying up the stairs. Geumsaegi could hear her shuffling around, and then her footsteps coming back down the carpeted staircase. She came into the room holding a tiny outfit just his size on a miniature hanger.

“My clothes! Where did you get them?” He said to her.

“I found them in the woods. I brought them home because I thought they belonged to a dead child and that’s why they were out there in the woods and I’m quite fond of haunted things,” She said one long sentence. “They’re yours?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Geumsaegi. With that Mary Anne again grabbed his paw, but this time led him down the hallway into a small powder room. She pulled a stool out from behind the pull-chain toilet. “You can wash up in here and then put your new clean clotheses on,” She told him. 

He thanked her as she pulled the door shut and stood guard on the outside. Geumsaegi looked at himself in the mirror. He had black stains around his mouth. The uniform that was once cleanly pressed and the color of a Canadian forest that someone would find a dead baby covered in gravel in was now creased and dyed with black walnut juice down the front. He took off the top half of his uniform and folded the garments up. He then grabbed an ivory-colored bar of soap from the porcelain clamshell-shaped dish it sat in. As he scrubbed at his face, the white suds turned brown. He alternated between scrubbing and splashing his face with the non-potable water until the juices of the nut were almost invisible. Almost as soon as he shut the water off, he could hear a thunderous voice coming from the hallway.

“What in the Dickens are you doing, Anne Marie?” Clive shouted frantically. “The mudroom is empty! Where in the hell is he?” 

Geumsaegi searched for a hiding spot, but there was nowhere to go in the tiny powder room.

“Is he in the bathroom? Is that who I heard washing up?” The man asked his daughter sternly as he pulled open the door. There stood the golden brown squirrel in only his trousers, his fur soaking wet. They locked eyes. Clive slammed the door shut and continued to yell at Mary Anne. Geumsaegi put his face in his paws for a second, then dried his face off and began to briskly get dressed. He put his hand on the doorknob, unsure what to do. After some time, the man swung open the door. 

“I must apologize, sir. I’ve been the worst host. This mudroom is no place for you to stay. You can’t even wash up, and there’s really no place for you to sleep but the floor. I suppose you can stay in one of our upstairs guest bedrooms,” He said, earnestly. “And I’ve been informed that Mary Anne here has found your things?” 

Geumsaegi stayed quiet. 

“Allow me to escort you,” He said, holding the door open for the rodent to leave. Geumsaegi left and followed him up to his new bedroom. Clive flicked on the electric chandelier. It was beautiful for a guest room. It had massive mahogany furniture, including a queen bed with a canopy. The ceiling was high and the walls were covered in green floral wallpaper. A giant window that would’ve allowed the light to come flooding in if it wasn’t dark out already. Connected to it was an ensuite with a canopy bathtub, a white porcelain tub with a shower built in. Clive left him on his own. Geumsaegi curled up beneath the covers of his new bed and went to sleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jesus fucking christ

A week or so had passed since Geumsaegi had moved into his new bedroom, and much to Clive’s dismay, he had befriended both of the Durham children. They would pass each other hand-drawn pictures from below the door, and play games like tic tac toe. While the children were off playing with their human friends in the summer sun, Geumsaegi would sit at his window his open window and talk to the local animals. Since they saw the human world only from the tops of trees and the tops of sidewalks, it was easy for him to radicalize them against capitalism. Sometimes, he would stare down at the lilies of the valley planted near the manor's entrance. The number of white flowers dwindled beneath the early summer sun, but the remaining blooms reminded him of Juldarami for some reason. He had thought about his housing dilemma more, and he had decided to stay with the Durhams. He figured that since they had so much money, being with them would probably be his best bet to find some way over to America. As he stared out the window pondering, resting his head in his hand, a knock came at the door.  
"Come in," he said. In came Clive, holding Geumsaegi's lunch in a floral porcelain bowl.  
“I hope you like eggs,” Clive said to him.  
Geumsaegi’s ears perked up. “Eggs?”  
“Yessir. Raw ones!” Clive explained.  
Geumsaegi tried to hold back his delight. "T-Thank you," He said. He first punctured the rounder, short end of the egg with his sharp incisor teeth and released the tiny chamber of gas. He then widened the hole by nibbling bits of the shell away, and then tore the soft inner membrane that protected the yolk and albumen. He slurped out the mucusy innards and finished by crunching the shell between his teeth, enjoying its gritty sand-like texture. He downed 17 more eggs in this fashion in the next five minutes.  
“By George! I’ve never seen such fine technique!” Clive remarked, after watching the squirrel tear through the chicken ovum. Clive took an egg from the bowl and popped it in his mouth. A subtle smile appeared across his lips as looked at Geumsaegi while crunching on the shell.  
“Y-you like raw eggs too?” The squirrel asked.  
“Sure as cream on the crumpet,” Clive responded. “But I do have a question,”  
“Sure,”  
“Do squirrels lay eggs?” Clive asked.  
“N- no,” Geumsaegi said, taken aback. “We’re mammals, we give live birth”  
The man laughed. “Well I’ll be! I always thought squirrels were animals!”  
“No, we are,”  
“Stop yanking my chain! Are you a mammal or an animal?”  
“I’m both! A mammal is a type of animal!”  
“You’re having a jest at me, aren’t you?” The man whined.  
“No, I’m not. A mammal is an animal,” the rodent explained, emphasizing the word ‘animal’, “that has live babies, gives milk, and has hair,”  
“But then that would mean that a human is a mammal,”  
“They are,” He further elaborated  
“But that would mean humans are animals,”  
“Th-” Geumsaegi took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he collected himself. “They are”  
“But that’s just not true,” Clive persisted.  
“It is!”  
“No,”  
“Then what are humans then? Like what’s the difference between humans and animals?”  
“Well humans can walk and talk,”  
“Clive, you’ve seen me both walk and talk,” Geumsaegi went on, trying his best not to get frustrated.  
“Well,” Clive stopped to think. “Whatever. Well, back to the eggs. It seems like we have at least one thing in common,”  
“Sure does. Maybe we have even more. What kind of things do you like?” he asked.  
“Well, I like my job, I like my wife,” the man responded.  
“No I mean like, what do you do in your free time?” He asked.  
“Oh, well I do enjoy a good book. Ever read Plato?”  
“No, not really, but I’ve heard of him,”  
“Would you like to read Plato?”  
 _Why would I ever want to read Plato_ , Geumsaegi thought to himself. Quickly, he tried to come up with a way to turn him down that wouldn’t make him sound rude.  
“I can’t read,” he said.  
“Ah, that’s okay. I can just read to you,” said Clive. “Let me get my book”  
He got up and left the room. Geumsaegi shifted in his seat on the bed.  
 _God fucking Damn it_ , he thought to himself. Geumsaegi had never particularly liked the sound of a British accent. It made him think of ugly people, who he despised. As he waited, he could hear his captor-turned-host shuffling around books and scanning through the pages. After some time, he heard the shuffling stop. Into the room came Clive again, holding a leather bound book. The lanky man took a seat on the rocking chair in the corner of the room, his hair catching the light spilling in through the window.  
“Shall we begin?” he asked  
 _Let’s get this over with,_ thought Geumsaegi. “Sure,” He replied, as not to be rude. What followed was about a half hour of Clive reading from simultaneously the most weird and boring book Geumsaegi had ever heard of. It was all about how gay people are allowed to be gay as long as they don’t fuck eachother in the butt. Not only was it weird and boring, it was also shocking. He thought it was obvious to everyone that being gay but not having butt sex was stupid. Otherwise, what’s even the point of being gay? Plus, why isn’t it okay to have buttsex? Who cares? And besides, it’s not like it kills people. In fact, having butt sex can actually benefit people. After his first year in the army, Geumsaegi was able to smuggle entire two-liters of soda into the movie theater. That, among other things, made him extremely popular around base. It simply baffled him how someone could come to the conclusion that it’s perfectly moral to be gay, unless you have sex, and how people could just agree with him. Clive reached the end of the chapter and closed the book.  
“Wow, that was really something,” Said Geumsaegi.  
“Quite!” Said Clive, cheerfully.  
The squirrel leaned back on the bed and stretched. He was actually starting to like Clive a little, and he could tell Clive was warming up to him too. Either that, or this was a purposefully cruel act. In that case, Clive was an insane, sick, and twisted man.  
“Well then, I suppose you’ve been here long enough to know that you don’t have any diseases. At least, none that are bad enough to affect the both of us. I see you looking out the window often. Care to see it up close?” He asked the squirrel.  
“What? Like a walk?” Geumsaegi asked.  
“Why yes!” He responded, britishly.  
Clive held open the door for the small, brown creature. They then both descended the great stairway, and passed through the magnificent rooms of the manor until they reached the back door. As they stepped through the threshold onto his cobblestone patio, Geumsaegi felt a shiver up his spine. The duo walked through the extensive gardens surrounding the mansion, the squirrel admiring every blossom of the heirloom roses, dahlias, azaleas, and all the other spectacular flowers. Small creatures from about the estate came to speak to the squirrel they had only ever seen in the window. As they had conversations in their native tongue, Clive seemed to look puzzled.  
“Are you speaking squirrel?” he asked.  
Geumsaegi paused, once again perplexed by something that came from Clive’s mouth. “It’s Korean,” He corrected him.  
“Ah! The great nation of Korea! A wonderful bunch, aren’t they?” Clive exclaimed.  
“Right?” He responded, before returning to his conversation with a house sparrow. While the little squirrel carried on with the local wildlife, he noticed the man shooting him glances then quickly looking away once they met eyes. He turned to him.  
“What?” He asked.  
“Nothing,” Clive responded.  
He continued chit-chatting with other chipmunks, but then came to a halt and swung to look at the man.  
“What?” He repeated, slightly louder this time.  
“Nothing!” Clive insisted, whipping his head back around to look at a flower. “I say, what is this wondrous blossom? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen one before!”  
“I wouldn’t know,” Geumsaegi said patiently. “This is your garden.”  
Clive hemmed and hawed.  
“You really seem like you have something on your mind,” The squirrel told him.  
“Well- I- No. I don’t want to offend,” He backtracked.  
“No, I won’t mind. What is it?”  
“Well… You are quite the androgynous little fellow…” He muttered.  
“Clive,” Geumsaegi said. “Are you asking me what I’ve got going on downstairs?”  
“Oh my Gosh,” Clive said. Geumsaegi plowed forward, undeterred.  
“Are you asking me if I’ve got a hog or a hose? Are you asking me what color the party lights are in the basement? Are you asking me if this sandwich is roast beef or salami? Are you asking me if it’s a sock or a-”  
“THAT’S ENOUGH,” Clive exclaimed. “Yes,”  
“In my species, there are six sexes. We have the biological male and female, although that of course doesn’t account for nonbinary or otherwise, and we also have Alphas, Betas, and Omegas. Think of it as a sort of secondary social sex, rather than the primary one that many people are raised as since birth.”  
“Does that mean you aren’t… raised as your secondary sex?”  
“Well, not exactly. We only know for sure what secondary sex an individual is once they reach sexual maturity, or puberty. We call it presentation, where the person in question develops the hormones and characteristics of an alpha, beta, or omega.”  
“Ah, Grecian and Korean. A man of culture! But do go on, this is absolutely fascinating.” Clive exclaimed.  
“Alphas impregnate, omegas get pregnant, and betas are infertile. There’s a whole bunch of stuff going on,” Geumsaegi explained.  
Clive leaned in, engaged in the conversation. “So, in your society, is there any taboo surrounding homosexual activity?”  
“Well, You’d think it wouldn’t matter because we can all get pregnant, but alas,” He said, woefully. _He likes a lot of gay things for a straight guy,_ Geumsaegi thought to himself. They continued walking together, silently. The two of them came up upon a giant concrete statue surrounded by well kempt shrubs. The figure was a larger woman sitting in an electric wheelchair. It stood up straight from the center of a tiered fountain.  
“Abby Lee Miller?” Geumsaegi exclaimed.  
“What? Do you not like it?” The man asked.  
“Well no- I mean, like yes but- It’s just Abby Lee Miller. From Dance Moms,”  
“What are you talking about? It was my father’s,”  
“Ok,” Both of them went back inside the home.


	5. Chapter 5

The squirrel emerged from his bed like a wild rodent emerging from his den after winter break. It had been a few days since Clive had allowed him out into the gardens, and today was the first day he could go out on his own. He threw on a vest overtop of his button-up shirt and pulled up his trousers. As he walked out the door, he took his straw hat off the hanger and headed down the stairs. Outside the manor, he started down the long driveway, looking for a way into some kind urban area. The road went slightly uphill, but other than that it was an easy walk. There hadn’t been any cars so far. It was also extremely pleasant, the street was framed by a young meadow filled with sweet smelling grass and peppered with multicolored wildflowers. Past the strip of grass on either side was a forest full of old hardwood trees. 

Suddenly, while entranced by the beauty of the nature around him, a dandy riding in a white roadster that matched his suit came careening down the road. Geumsaegi, seeing the well-dressed, but seemingly under the influence young man flying towards him at mach speed, froze dead in his tracks. Unfortunately, the driver did not. Geumsaegi laid there on the ground, flattened. The car skidded to a halt. The man hopped out of it, his pupils the size of golf balls.

“Whose dog is this?” He shouted.

Geumsaegi looked up at him. 

“Golly gee willikers! I should have never smoked Opium and then driven!” The man exclaimed. “Boy oh! I bet I could have avoided this if I wasn’t all zozzled up on the pen-yan! Now how am I gonna get home without the buttons noticing this blood all over my hot rod!?”  _ (AN: Smoking Opium and then getting behind the wheel of a car is highly dangerous and a serious criminal offense. Driving under the influence can lead to fines, license confiscation, and even jail time. Opium use can cause slower reaction times and inhibit muscle use, leading to accidents like this, or worse. Don’t dope and drive. It could cost you your life. This message was brought to you by the AD Council.)  _

Geumsaegi looked up at the man who had run him over. "YOU FUCKING BISEXUAL," he screamed at him. "YOU HIT ME WITH YOUR FUCKING CAR!"

The man screamed and ran back to his car in fear, then sped away. Just as soon as he left, another car pulled up. This time it was a rolls royce in a tasteful dark green color. Geumsaegi perked up as soon as the door opened. He could smell who it was. The moustached man stepped from the car. It was Clive. 

"Geumsaegi!" He exclaimed, in dismay. He returned to his car for a brief moment, but soon got back out holding a spatula. He began trying to scrape Geumsaegi's flattened body off of the asphalt, like the gum I had to scrape off the desk while I was in detention for stealing my English teacher's credit card (AN: fuck you Mr. Blair) The squirrel comically popped back to his normal non flattened shape, but was still beaten up from the crash. 

"Clive," Geumsaegi said to him, softly. "H-how did you know I was here?" 

"I didn't. I heard someone say bisexual so I came out here. I am straight by the way," he said, picking the squirrel up and gingerly placing him across the seatbeltless back seat. With a concerned expression, he shut the extremely dangerous suicide door of the car and got in the driver's seat. 

"What happened?" He asked him, starting back to the manor.

"I was just going for a walk and some walking optometrist waiting room poster ran me over," he said, choking back the tears. “I think I broke my ankle,” 

“I think you broke more than your ankle, lad,” He responded woefully. 

The motorcar carrying the two sped home. "Shall I call a physician or a veterinarian," Clive asked the writhing squirrel as he picked him up. 

"I don't know," he moaned in agony. The man, squirrel in hand, climbed the stairs then set the squirrel-boy abomination down gently on the bed he'd been sleeping in. Clive left the room, and from down the hallway Geumsaegi could hear the clacking of the rotary phone, followed by him speaking. He laid there in bed, staring out the window and trying to concentrate as hard as he could as the landscape to distract himself from the pain. He stared down at the patch of lily of the valleys. He'd forgotten about them, and from the heat of summer, their flower stalks had withered away. They had reached the natural end of their flowering period. It was sad to Geumsaegi, but at least the plant hadn't died. Their leaves were still spotted with golden specks of sunlight filtered through the trees, their thangs still swanged calmly in the warm breeze, and next year they would flower again. The sappy nature imagery was enough to distract him for a good 20 minutes until a man holding a bag with a red cross printed on it stepped through his door. Clive stood in the doorway watching, concerned. The man, clearly either a vet or a doctor, judging from his head mirror and stethoscope. He examined Geumsaegi up and down, left and right, horizontally and vertically, inside and out (well, maybe not that one, actually) and diagonally. Finally he came to a conclusion. 

"Looks like you broke your leg and your arm. We'll have to put you in a cast. Plus your left ball came clean off" the practitioner of medicine said. "Luckily, you'll be fine in no time. You'll just need some bed rest and medicine. Take this," 

He handed a brown glass bottle to the squirrel. "What is it?" Geumsaegi asked.

"Heroin. You'll need to be on crutches, too. Just for a week or so while everything heals," The doctor fished around in his bag for some bandages. As he finished wrapping Geumsaegi's limbs up, he turned to Clive. "That'll be 15 quid in total," 

He paid the care provider. "Thank you so much, sir. For everything."

"Ah! Don't mention it! There's nothing bandages and a little bit of opiates can't fix!" The man said as he trotted down the stairs. Clive followed him down, escorting him to the door. After seeing his guest out, he returned to Geumsaegi's quarters.

“You know, I had my ball blown off too,” The moustached man said.

“What?” 

“In the great war. I was drafted. They dropped a shell on us,” He continued. “It turned me gay. I had to spend some time in restorative therapy to get back to normal,”

Geumsaegi folded his hands and stared at Clive for a second. “Clive, I am trying my absolute hardest right now to formulate words that would even remotely be an appropriate response to what you just said to me,”

“I know, not many are keen on ex-homosexuals,” He responded in a forlorn voice.

“No, that’s not the part that got me,” 

Anne called to Clive as she climbed the staircase. 

“Yes?” He responded.

“What happened honey?” 

“Our furry guest was hit by a motorcar,” He shouted back. “He’s already been treated. He just needs to rest.”

“And what about the ball?” She inquired.

“It’s gone, dearest”

“What? No, the ball that we’re hosting tonight,” She responded.

“Ah, I suppose it can go on.” He said. 

“Will you be joining us downstairs?” 

“Maybe later,” Clive said, turning to face Geumsaegi. He flashed him a smile so luminous in its tenderness that the squirrel was momentarily stunned by its blinding light. “I think someone deserves a little Durham Tender Loving Care.”

“Um, okay I guess,” Anne said, followed by the sound of many layers of clothing swishing back down the stairs. 

“You don’t have to do that, Clive,” Geumsaegi said, twisting his blanket between his paws. “You should spend the evening having fun with the people you care about.”

“Who says I wasn’t already planning on doing that?” Clive said mildly, settling onto the mattress beside him. 

The evening passed with the sound of Clive’s mellow voice, charming despite his British accent, reading aloud stories from his collection of boring tomes. Geumsaegi was starting to like them, but only because he found it endearing that Clive was so passionate about them. As he paused the reading between chapters, Geumsaegi spoke up. “I’ve been wondering all evening. Did you call a vet or a people doctor?”

“Ah, my boy Geumsaegi. I called the livestock veterinarian. He does my horses and my garden hermit,” He explained. 

The two of them chatted for a bit more before returning to reading. They shared details about their lives with each other. He told him about his time in the army with his brother and about Juldarami. Clive told him about how back at his days at Oxford he had a fling with one of his classmates. 

"You went to Oxford?" Geumsaegi exclaimed.

"Yes," 

"Like, as a student? Or did you just, like, show up there"

"No, I attended Oxford University," Clive responded. 

"Like,  _ the  _ Oxford? Not like Oxford University of Indiana or something?"

"No, silly squirrel! Oxford. The oldest University in the English-speaking world!"

"Wow," Geumsaegi said, in shock. 

Their conversation carried on late into the night, until Geumsaegi drifted off to the sound of the band playing waltzes and people chattering carried softly from downstairs. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone

Geumsaegi stirred awake as the yellow sunlight that seeped in through the curtains hit his eyes. He pushed down the heavy floral duvet and sat himself up. Clive had fallen asleep in the cushioned rocking chair he was sitting in last night, his books at his feet. Both his arms and legs were crossed and he was slumped forward, his body supported by his elbows on the arms of the chair. The squirrel stepped out of bed, forgetting about yesterday's incident. He fell to the floor and the thud of his body against the hardwood was enough to wake Clive up. After allowing himself to fully come alive, he realized what had happened. 

"My!" He said as he rushed over to pick the fleabag up. "You need to be more careful,"

"Yeah. I guess I forgot… Did you spend the night in here?" 

"Ah, I suppose I did,"

Geumsaegi chuckled. Eventually, Clive went off to work as Geumsaegi laid in bed. The Durham children came in to entertain him. There weren't many games they could play with one bedridden team member aside from one the children came up with earlier called 'Hit Geumsaegi With Cricket Bats', so after they were told they couldn't play this game, they went off to do something more interesting. At the end of the day, Anne brought him up some eggs.

His days in bed continued on like this until he was able to walk on crutches. His life went almost back to normal. He continued hobbling alongside Clive in the gardens, and the surprise games of Hit Geumsaegi With Cricket Bats were back into full swing. (AN: laugh) A week or so from when he was first ran over, he and Clive were in the gardens, as they usually were in the evenings. 

Clive cleared his throat. "Geumsaegi." He said.

"Yes?"

"Well, as you may know, I do often travel abroad. Recently I've come across the opportunity to go on a men's trip. One to the U.S." he explained to him.

Geumsaegi's heart sank as he spoke. "What? What will I do?" 

"Well, that's why I bring it up. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I figured that you're a rather sophisticated fellow and would appreciate the states. We'd stay in New York, home of the child worker factory fire," he continued.

The squirrels' eyes lit up. "No way!! Clive, this is fantastic!! I've always wanted to see the states!! You have no idea how happy this makes me!"  _ The mission!  _ He thought to himself.  _ I feel like I almost forgot about it! What is wrong with me? But this is the best thing that could've happened, mission-wise!  _

"Great, then! We'll leave at the end of the week," he said. 

Saturday morning approached quicker than it usually did. Geumsaegi had fit all of his possessions back into his squirrel-sized suitcase the night before. He walked with Clive to the car in the cool, misty air. While Anne helped them pile their luggage into the back of the car, Clive approached the furry dybbuk holding a small handle. 

"Here, put this on," he told him, handing it to him. 

"What is this?" Inquire Geumsaegi.

"It's a handle,"

"Well," he started, before being cut off by Clive.

"They'll think you're luggage. It’ll save us money," Clive explained. 

"Great," Geumsaegi said, fully prepared to look like a major dickhead. 

He put the handle on his head and stepped into the car. It was the same one Clive had rescued him in, but this time he was in the front seat. Geumsaegi was overcome by a feeling of happiness that Clive was in his life. His heart felt as if it was overflowing with joy. Could this be love? Non-gay love? For a friend? That is in now way an expression of homosexuality? As they started down the long driveway with Anne in the back seat, the warm glow in his chest transformed into a sharp pang of anxiety.  _ What about Juldarami? _ He thought to himself. His mind raced as slowly became overcome by guilt. As he grew more fond of the person he was supposed to hate, he felt as though he was not only betraying Juldarami, but also his country. But mostly Juldarami. As they made their way through the bumbling town, Geumsaegi watched the townspeople move busily up and down the sidewalk and in and out of buildings. He reflected.  _ Juldarami won’t ever love me anyways, so why should I waste my life chasing him, even if he is sexy?  _ Suddenly, something hit him.  _ What about the soulmate thing Dallas told me about? Could it be?  _ He looked over to Clive, watching him drive blissfully without a coherent thought in his hollow little skull.  _ But isn’t he a straight?  _ He looked back to Anne, whom Clive had made sit in the back seat to allow Geumsaegi to sit in the front. His mind immediately snapped back to all the times Clive had said something completely warped and deranged about his own sexuality.  _ If that man is straight, I will literally throw myself off the top of a skyscraper,  _ he thought to himself. 

They continued on until they had gone straight through town, reaching the harbor. The smell of infected vagina carried off of the water into the shipyard. Watercraft of all shapes, sizes, and purposes sat in the docks. It was a vibrant area, full of workers moving goods, and people from countries that were so bad that England would’ve been an improvement disembarking from their voyages. Clive boarded as he waved goodbye to his wife. Geumsaegi was grabbed by the handle and taken to Clive’s room with the rest of his luggage. 

"Allow me to escort you to your new room," Clive said. He took the squirrel by the paw and lead him to a room connected to his. "There's an extra room for luggage. You can stay here," 

"Wow, this is nice!" Geumsaegi exclaimed. "This is just like Sweet Life on Deck!"

"What?" Clive asked.

"Nevermind," It was almost as nice as a non-boat room. Clive's room had a canopied bed with three armchairs surrounding a small table. Geumsaegi's had a chaise lounge with jacquard pillows piled atop of it. Next to it was a mahogany wardrobe and a few chairs. Clive brought him in some blankets to sleep under. The two began to unpack, and soon the ship was out of the dock. Geumsaegi finished putting away his overgrown American Girl Doll-sized clothes and began to move on to his other items. He placed his Aussie Miracle Curls shampoo, conditioner, defining oil, leave-in detangling milk, and crème curl pudding on the table. 

"The Aussie Miracle Curl lineup sure does leave my hair defined and hydrated. Plus, with zero parabens or sulfates it can be used on any hair texture, and makes sure my hair stays nourished and healthy," he reflected to himself. Next from his bag came the printer, and then the button that would send him back. He moved his finger lightly over the trigger. 

_ One wrong touch and it'll all be over,  _ he thought to himself. He put it back inside the suitcase and continued to unload his everyday items. The last thing he needed was his heat suppressant pills. He stuck his hand into both of the interior pockets of his suitcase, only to find nothing but a loose goldfish cracker from 2004. He lifted up the lining of his case. Nothing. Moving around his room, he frantically opened and shut drawers, looking for his pills, but they were nowhere to be found.  _ I must have left them in the house _ he thought to himself. Geumsaegi panicked for a split second.  _ Just try and calm down, Geumsaegi,  _ he thought to himself.  _ You probably won’t even go into heat anyways. Last time you forgot your pills, you didn’t, remember? Plus, worst comes to worst, you can always just stick a shampoo bottle up your ass. _ He laughed to himself as an image of the Durham children eating his pills thinking they were candy formed in his head. 

"Shall we take a look at some of the common roomz?" Clive asked.

Geumsaegi swung around, surprised by the man suddenly appearing in his doorway "Sure," he responded. As his little squirrel brain began to process what was going on, and who he would be sharing close quarters with on the boat, a grim thought passed his mind.  _ What if-  _ his mind started.  _ No  _ he thought, trying to block out his thoughts. 

They started off down the hallway and into one of the smoking rooms. It was gorgeous. The ceilings were intricately painted with floral designs. Golden candelabras protruded from the decorative pillars built into the wall. Leather armchairs sat in groups around glass tables on top of an elaborate blue carpet. 

"This is breathtaking!" Exclaimed Geumsaegi.

"Yeah? I figured you'd like it. Doesn't your lot pride themselves in having a flair for interior design?" Said Clive.

"Okay," the squirrel responded, defeated.

They went on to the dining room, which was even more dazzling than the smoking hall. Delicately carved gold trim bordered arched that reached to the ceiling. Crystal chandeliers dangled above them as mahogany tables and chairs stretched on in front of them. The duo emerged onto the deck like an earthworm making its way onto the damp sidewalk. The ship was fully equipped with tennis courts, shuffleboard decks, and a swimming pool, as well as umbrellas and chairs to lounge on. 

"Alright, I'm bored," said Geumsaegi.

The two of them returned to their rooms. As the squirrel sat in his armchair, he grew more and more anxious, no longer able to fight the image of him getting fucked in the shit chute by the human lead paint chip behind the door. However, his thoughts, like raw chicken, became slightly more appetizing as they marinated. He did feel something for Clive, he just wasn’t sure what. Over the course of the week, Geumsaegi’s slimy, pink flame was gradually breaded and deep fried until edible. As soon as his golden-brown attraction for Clive was taken from the fryer and placed on the paper towels to drain on one crisp, Atlantic morning, he realized something. He was in heat. 

The squirrel spiraled into a horny panic, trying to figure out what to do to keep himself sane. He thought about gluing his butt cheeks together like the vice principal of his abstinence-only high school had suggested for homecoming, in a futile attempt to lower the amounts of bastard newborns found in the guidance counselor's mailbox. He continued to think.  _ Maybe a game of squash? That's literally the least sexiest thing I can think of. _

He got up off of his bed and walked over to knock on the door that separated his room from Clive's. As he walked, his legs shook like a Mormon on jungle juice. The man opened the door, and as soon as their eyes met, Geumsaegi folded in to his instincts.

“Clive,” Geumsaegi gasped, hanging desperately onto the portly man’s clothes. “Clive, I think I’m in heat.” 

“What in the dickens!” Clive shouted, immediately breaking out into a sweat that one could only describe as smelling like stress. “What does that even mean?” 

“It means I’m going to die unless you put it in the backdoor,” Geumsaegi groaned, fists clenched so hard that a seam began popping on the jacket. 

“What’s the ba-OH.” Clive said. 

“Yeah,” Geumsaegi said, rolling his eyes. 

Clive’s brows furrowed up into a concerned A-frame. “I-Gee, Geum, I don’t know. Well, I mean- you’re really going to die?” 

Geumsaegi sighed and rolled over in the cot, facing the wall. “Most likely,” he said. “I don’t have any of the proper medications or suppressants that I’d have back home. It’s been so long since I’ve had a heat- I had just assumed that I was barren. But you shouldn’t force yourself. I love you, and making you do that when you’re unwilling is no better than rape.” 

Clive stood unsure in the cramped dorm, the love of his life slowly suffering to death on the other side. 

“Just leave, Clive,” Geumsaegi said quietly. “You shouldn’t have to see this.” 

And so Clive left. 

Up on the poop deck, the weather was incongruously pleasant. Despite being in the middle of the Atlantic, the beaming of the sun reminded Clive of summers on the estate when the children were still just little toddling things. He hadn’t even really minded the quiet nights in bed with Anne then, not when the sight of everything in bloom as far as the eye could see was so lovely and bright. This is what life was meant to be, he had thought. A wife, children, a career in politics- why would he want anything else? 

That feeling was a fleeting one. Color only came by once a year when the inside of a home was as gray and tired as theirs (because they were in England). But it had been normal. The alternative- the only way he knew how to seek out color- the risks were too much. The stakes were higher with a family. When he had been younger, when Risley had been younger, there had been nothing to lose but their futures. Now that the future was corporeal, Clive had found himself to be much less selfish. 

Until he had met Geumsaegi. 

He realized in that moment that nobody had ever been it for him but Geumsaegi. Nobody, not even Maurice had made him feel that rush of joy and strange nebulous desire at merely the sight of them. He burst into the room and began vigorously fucking the squirrel in the bussy, jarking he lil skirrel meate all the way. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey 😊👋


End file.
